Invisible
by LadyKailitha
Summary: Set between Scandal and Hounds, John has his last straw when he's not noticed at all at a party. Stand alone but makes some references to "The Aftermath".


The place was packed with people. People I have never met. Nor likely would ever see again. But I was here because Sherlock was here. I had even rented a tux for the occasion. Sherlock on the other hand merely dressed in one of his nicer black suits, no tie and he looked better then I did.

Sherlock hadn't even wanted to come but Mycroft told him that if he didn't certain little secrets about Sherlock's drug use would be made public. Not wanting to tarnish his image further he was forced to show up. Why he made me come along, I wouldn't find out till half way through but it was the cause of our biggest fight to date. And yet...

I need to stop and explain before I get too ahead of myself. There I was dressed to the nines looking quite dashing and yet wishing I had put my dress uniform on instead but I thought I would look out of place but looking around I realized I would have stood out and that would have been a billion times better then what was happening now.

People were brushing past me like I wasn't even there. I stood next to Sherlock the whole time and people were coming up to him laughing making conversation. Whenever I tried to say something they would talk over top of me.

I spotted Lestrade and went over to talk to him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"It's a benefit for fallen heroes. Didn't Sherlock tell you?" And there it was. His pet hero needed to come and be seen. Only Sherlock hadn't told him and now he was looking like an idiot.

"Of course he didn't, that sod." He patted me on the shoulder, "Well don't let it get to you, eh?" Just then someone called his name and he went to see what they needed. He left me standing there.

I went back to stand next to Sherlock. I tugged on his sleeve to get his attention but he didn't even hiss "not now." He was too engrossed in the conversation he was having with the Prime Minister about some famous crime or another.

All round me I could hear what they were saying about me.

"God, why doesn't he just leave? Groupie."

"Now there's a sycophant if ever I saw one. Hanging on Sherlock Holmes' coattails. Positively disgusting."

"I heard that he was a war hero somewhere and that's why he was invited. Doesn't look it does it?" Here everyone listening laughed.

There another laugh to my left. "Oh, he did bring his flatmate? I haven't seen him."

"That little lump of a man? I haven't seen him either."

"What does Sherlock see in him?"

"Must be the wool jumpers!"

All round me I could hear:

"Useless."

"Stupid."

One particularly close to me said, "I'm glad he's not here. Now we can have Sherlock all to ourselves."

"Shush! He's right at your elbow," her companion said.

"John!" Sherlock called. But before he could answer he had spotted Lestrade and went over.

"Have you seen John?"

"No I haven't but he's so short, he could literally be anywhere." My blood was beginning to boil. I could feel the flush of my cheeks.

"Oh there you are John." Sherlock said as he finally turned around to see me.

"I've been here this whole time." I told him as my hand tightened around my glass.

"Have you? My little shadow." He smirked. "Time to go home." The glass shattered in my hand, the contents ran down my hand mixing with the blood.

"Go. To. Hell." I hissed through gritted teeth.

I grabbed a nice white linen napkin from a passing waiter and pressed it to the cut in my hand. I could hear behind me as I dressed the wound.

"What did I say?" He asked Lestrade plaintively.

"I don't know, mate. I don't know."

I stormed off then. Seriously? I thought. These were suppose to be detectives and they didn't get it. I looked at my hand and knew I need stitches. I sighed and called a cab.

One pulled up and asked where to?

"To the nearest hospital if you can step on it please."

"You ain't dyin'' is ya?" he asked.

"No I'm a doctor." I told him he nodded and went as fast as the busy streets would allow.

I went up to the receptionist and told her my problem, explained that I was a doctor and that I need assistance.

I was brought in quickly and the doctor on staff looked at it tsked.

"Now, how'd you do that?" he asked, his accent was American I could tell but that was all I could tell.

I laughed. "Apparently I don't know my own strength or the caterers were lying about the glasses being crystal."

"You wouldn't be talking about that nice fancy to do at the Mayor's place would you?" he asked as he cleaned disinfected the wound.

"That would be the place."

"I would recommend next throw the contents in someone face instead of breaking it all over your hand."

I smiled, "Thanks for the advice."

He jotted down something on two slips of paper.

"This one is a prescription for the pain if it gets too bad once the anesthetic wears off. I assume I don't need to tell you when and how to take out the stitches?" I nodded. "Good." He handed me the second slip of paper.

"And this is the name of a good dry cleaner that will get that right out so you can get the deposit back on that tux."

"Thank you." I was honestly surprised.

I got up to leave and reached the curtain that separated us from the rest of the hospital, the doctor called out "And doctor?" I turned around.

"Take care of yourself. I don't want to see you back here any time soon." I smiled.

I went right home and went straight for my room without stopping in the living room.

"John!" He called out and even followed me upstairs. But I slammed the door in his face and went to go clean up. I hung up the tux and turned on the shower so I couldn't hear the banging on the door or him calling my name.

I put my head under the stream of the shower and fought the tears that came to face. He hadn't bothered to text me the whole time I was in the hospital and _now_ he wants to talk?

The next morning I woke early thinking that I could avoid him as he always slept later then I did but the sod had stayed up all night. I could see his silhouette sitting in his chair.

I grabbed my coat and hurried down the steps. I did have errands to run like getting the tux to dry cleaners and picking up that prescription, I told myself, that's why didn't go in but who was I kidding really? I was avoiding Sherlock. I stopped for breakfast and then went to do a shift at the clinic.

Sarah was surprised to see me. Even after we had broken up I still continued to work there. I had gone back and begged for my job back after I said I'd quit. I needed the money and she was ever the professional.

"You aren't scheduled for today," she reminded me.

"I know I just need some place to burn off steam." I knew she wouldn't turn me away. They needed help too bad.

It was late when I returned and saw the light on in the living room. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he was still up. Waiting for me.

"You're going to have to talk to me eventually." He called as I stormed up the stairs to my room.

Like Hell, I thought as I slammed the door to my room so he could hear it.

Maybe it was time to start looking for another place to live. A roommate that would care. That I wouldn't be invisible to.

Over the next couple days, whenever he would enter a room, I'd leave it.

Finally he had enough and blocked the door to the stairs.

"I don't know what I did." He told me, his arms were crossed in front of his chest.

"And that's the problem." I tried to push past him but he wouldn't budge. He was taller then I was after all.

"John, you are forgetting that I didn't start learning about what was right and wrong when it came to social interaction until you came along. If you don't tell me what I did, how can I correct it in the future?"

"Right." I said and just looked him in the eye.

"John, please." He gave me the puppy dog look and I sighed.

"The problem is that no one sees me anymore."

He looked confused.

"I use to be an army doctor saving lives and having men look up to me. Now all people see is you."

In his confusion and hurt I pushed past him and shouted for him to leave me alone. Mercifully he did.

I made it as far as the bottom of the stairs before I broke down and cried. The pain was palatable. I pulled the bottle of pills out of my pocket and looked at them for a moment. I wondered briefly how many it would take to numb the pain in my chest.

"I wouldn't if I were you." I nearly dropped the bottle. "Now if I was me," he continued, "I'd so do it. But it doesn't suit you John." I looked up and saw Sherlock coming down the stairs. My eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I wasn't spying if that's what you were thinking. I needed to go out and you are in the way." He stopped at the bottom step and sat next to me.

I looked back at the bottle in my hand. I handed it to him.

"For your hand?" He asked as he took it from me and put it in his pocket. He hadn't looked at it or asked why I was handing it to him of all people.

I nodded and gently he took my hand and ran his fingers softly over the healing wound.

"Is because I called you my shadow?" He asked not looking me in the eye.

"That was only the last straw." I watched his finger tracing the cuts on my hand. "I could take it from you. I know that your mind is so fast that little things escape you like when I leave. But that night you didn't even say two words to me. You didn't even know I was there by your side practically the whole night."

"John I-" I held up hand up my other hand to stall him.

"Let me finish. I know what people think of me. When they do see me, they think of me as groupie or 'sycophant'. Riding of the coattails of the Great Detective Sherlock Holmes. That I'm useless. Stupid. A little lump of a man. But what else can I be?" I gently pulled my hand out of his and looked him the eye.

"Standing next to you I'm not tall, dashing, charming, good looking. I don't have your bright blue eyes, mine are muddy almost brown. I don't have your dark curly hair. The best I can hope for is dishwater blond. I don't have you style. I prefer jeans and jumpers to suits and silk shirts. I'm stocky to your lithe."

I stood up and his eyes followed me. "I'm probably going to find another place to live. Maybe get a job at an ER for the thrill side of things. But I can't live like this. I'm sorry." I walked out the door dressed as I was. No coat. I heard him follow me out and call a cab and I didn't even turn around. I just kept walking. Somehow I ended up at St. Bart's.

I looked up at the building I had met Sherlock for the first time all that long time ago. I had to do it. I had to leave. But I didn't know where to go. Or if leaving would even solve the problem, it might make it worse. I sighed and was about to hail a cab when I I reached in to my pocket to realize that I had forgot my phone, my keys, and my wallet.

I cursed out loud for a couple minutes. When I was done, I sighed and was about to go in and find a phone to call Lestrade to pick me up when I heard a voice behind me.

"Another fight with Sherlock?" I turned around denial hot on my lips when I saw it was Molly.

"Hello Molly."

"A bad one this time wasn't it?" She wasn't going to let it drop. She saw more then people gave her credit for. She was bright enough to be a coroner after all.

I sighed and told her the truth. "The worse yet."

"You wanna come in and talk about it?" She asked. "I make a really good cup of coffee," she said tantalizingly. I sighed and followed her in. I didn't really want to talk about but maybe just the act of telling someone it would help. It never worked with his therapist but this was Molly.

She busied about getting the coffee and set it down in front of me.

"What has he done now?" She asked as she sat across from me with her own cup of coffee.

"Made me invisible." I sighed into my cup.

"You're not though." I snorted in disbelief in her instant response.

"Who would see me next the handsome, dashing, tall... Sherlock Holmes?" I asked her.

"Oh loads of people. Lestrade knows what an asset you are to understanding Sherlock, to cases in general. Having a medical man he can trust is essential to his job."

"That's only one Molly."

"I see you too."

"You see everything Molly." She blushed.

"I know you help keep him sane. I know he cares about you."

"Not enough apparently."

"You threatened to move out didn't you?" She asked leaning forward. I was surprised. She had hit right on the head. I blinked.

"I can't stay. I'd still help him with cases and such but I can't stay." I looked down at my rapidly cooling cup of coffee.

"Drink up John. It's not as bad as you think."

After I was done she took me home.

Sherlock leaped up when he saw me.

"You must be freezing, you forgot your coat, keys, wallet, well everything!" He reached out to touch me but I was warm and he let go out of shock.

"I met Molly," I explained. "She bought me coffee and gave me a ride home."

"Ah." was the only reply before he sat down.

I went to up to my room to grab a book that I had been reading when I came down I could hear Sherlock on the phone.

"No, he's home now. Apparently he wandered off to Bart's where Molly picked him up and brought him home. Yes. I know. I will talk to him. He just needs a chance to cool off. I know, he's serious. No, I'm still thinking about what to say. I've got to go. I think I hear him outside the door."

I made a show of just coming down the stairs. But I knew he wasn't fooled. For the next few days I could feel him watching me. When I went out he didn't stop me. Though once I thought I saw him following me. What did I care? I tried not to.

The next morning I went downstairs and there was no Sherlock. I looked up at the clock and it hadn't even struck eight yet. I went down to Mrs. Hudson's.

"Did you see where Sherlock'd gone?" I asked when I popped my head in.

"He said he'd be back by eight and to just settle in. He wanted to talk to you." I nodded.

I wondered what he was going to say. I went back upstairs and made myself a cup of tea and waited.

At exactly 8 am he came dashing up the stairs.

"Ah John. Thanks for waiting."

"What's this about Sherlock?" As if I didn't already know.

"You know full well what this is about. I think I finally hit on the comment that hurt you the most and I have gone over our cases with a fine tooth comb and come up with a rebuttal."

So that's what had taken him so long. He had been gathering data to refute my claims. But logic wasn't going to work. I'd hoped he'd see that but I was wrong.

"You said people call you useless and only riding on my coattails. Here are your finer traits John."

"My what?" I asked confused.

He ignored me and continued on, "One: Loyal. Just one day after meeting me you were approached by someone you had never met and was offered money to spy on me. You turned him down. You followed me when the cabbie took me to make sure I was alright."

I shook my head.

"You defended me when Lestrade and his goons were tossing my room for drugs. You had just met me! And that was just our first case together. This isn't including all the times that you cancelled dates to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. Or the times I heaped abuse on you and stayed. John you stayed."

I nodded this time.

"Two: Brave. The bravest man I have _ever_ met." I couldn't believe these words we coming out of his mouth. "Shooting a serial killer when my life was in danger. Chasing an armed assassin through a museum. Fighting him off at the circus. Doing your best to rescue yourself and Sarah when you were kidnapped by the Black Lotus. You just needed me to distract them and then untie afterwards. Grabbing Moriarty in the swimming pool and telling me to run. Shooting that dog when it attacked us. Your aim was straight and true even though you fighting the effect of the drugs just like the rest of us.

"And these are just the large acts of bravery. Staring down Mycroft even though he made veiled threats just minutes before. Standing up to that soldier at Baskerville. Not freaking out when the Americans attacked Irene Adler's place or later when they attacked Mrs. Hudson."

I shock my head again. He was trying make me out to be a hero.

"I just did what anyone would have."

"No John you didn't. Lestrade was was there with the dog and his shots went wild. Most men would have pissed their pants when the gun was placed against their head and ran away when the coast was clear. You ran to help the unconscious girl."

I mumbled something about my duty as a doctor. He waved me off.

"Doctor or not John. It was a brave thing to do and you know it." He stared me down until I conceded this point to him as well.

"Three: Clever. No don't look at me like that. You know you are. Yes you don't reach the level of my intelligence but that doesn't mean you aren't clever. You reached the same conclusion I did about the other smuggler at the same time as I did mine. You knew to take a picture of the symbols in case they were painted over. You found the clue about the meat which led us to the dog."

Alright he had me there but he continued. "And your humor though not always spot on is snarky. And it makes me laugh. You always have come back when I make joke. You always inspire me. I would be stuck and then you'll say something off the cuff and that would help me break the case."

I hadn't thought it of that way. Again I ceded the point to him he was 3-0. I wondered what he'd bring up next.

"And lastly: Caring. Your best trait by the way."

Cold, reserved Sherlock thought that _this _was my best trait?

"I won't list off all the times you cared John because that would take me until next week. Mycroft told me once that caring wasn't an advantage but you kept proving him wrong. Over and over again you proved him false."

I put my finger and thumb over my eyes as tears threatened to spill.

Suddenly Sherlock was kneeling in front of me. "John, don't leave. Can't you see that I need you?"

I nodded not trusting my voice.

"Will you stay?" He asked as he reached up and gently pulled my hand from eyes so he could look into them. He searched for signs anything that might tell him what my answer would be.

I nodded again.

"John!" He stood me up and put his arms around me and I just snuffled into his shirt.

"And don't let anyone tell you that you're not good looking because they don't know what it looks like." I nodded into his shirt. I didn't believe him on that one. No girl would think me handsome standing next to Sherlock.

I put out all thought of leaving Baker St. but I still had that lingering doubt about how long this would last.

Our biggest fight and it drove us closer together. Sherlock joked that we should have one a month. It had taken us half that come a resolution. I didn't think I could stand that. Who would have thought that in mere months I would be leaving Baker St. for what I thought I was for good. But that is another story for another time.


End file.
